Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Catty continuation: Sariah's true mate

**this is a continuation from yesterday's post... And perhaps a better expension of their energies...**

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his bloodied neck. He emitted that peculiar pained purr as the pressure cinched his injured flesh. Yet, he did not recoil. He allowed her to embrace him, to touch him, to kiss his face. Her hands ran the length of his sleek, lean muscled body, slipping quickly over the wounds which she had caused. She rubbed her face, her chest against him in a most feline manner. His tender grin exposed sharp white canines to the moonlight. She curled her fingers in his hide as she rubbed against him.

He pressed her back unto the ground, big cat paws upon her shoulders as his hind legs straddled her hips. He crouched over her, purring constantly. "Stuart," she whispered one last time, and then Sariah closed her eyes. He bent down, his face close enough that the short whiskers of his muzzle brushed her eye lashes. He inhaled deeply, expelling warm breath; then his lips parted, and he bathed the blood from her face with his wide, wet tongue.

She sighed, and reached from him. He refused, and instead pushed her back down. He took hold of her arm, nipped the skin of her wrist, and then ran his tongue the length of her forearm. She shuddered at the tingling mix of his rough tongue and the suppressed passion which it ignited within her.

He came close to her again; he rubbed his thick muzzle against her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. He sniffed in her sanguinary scent, his jaws open to allow sensitive scent glands the full experience as his eyes rolled and desire took him. The tip of his tongue slipped between that slit in his muzzle, between his sharp eye teeth. Stuart took this tip, and cleaned Sariah's body of the evidence of their confrontation. His flared nostrils bathed her in his steamy breath, his tongue painted her in tones of feline hunger. His mouth hovered over one breast, the nipple pinched between his teeth, while one paw took to the other breast, her nipple between the velvet toe pads as he teased her tight flesh. An involuntary groan escaped her.

His purr intensified into a rumble within. He pressed his body down upon her, and that rumble penetrated to flood her. Stuart placed one back foot between Sariah's legs, and then the other as he slowly spread her thighs. Front paws to either side of her upper body, Stuart moved his mouth down her abdomen, licking the valleys, nipping the curves. Sariah twitched and moaned. Then, he reached folds of her hidden flesh. Her knees came up, and spread as he eased his shoulders down.

Both paws ran the length of her quaking thighs, claws lightly scratching and exciting her skin before they turned and parted the tingling folds of her sensual flesh. Stuart once more pressed his curled tongue within her, conversing with the core of her desires. As he licked deep within, the heat from his muzzle sensitized the outer flesh, and a toe pad danced upon her passionate point.

Sariah writhed and moaned. Her hips rose and fell of their own volition. Her fingers clutched at his shaggy mane. She curled those digits, and pulled his face from between her thighs. She looked deep into his eyes, hers burning with heathen desire. A wicked grin curled his short muzzle, his tail twitching, as he lowered his body between her legs and slid forward.

The tip of his shaft teased the lips of her eager opening. With a rock of the hips, he entered her. She moaned, her fingernails clawing at him, trying to pull him deeper in. He refused her once more, tipping his hips so that his rigid member rode nearly all the way out. There, the tip throbbing within, the length of the staff without, she reached down, wrapped the fingers of one had around the slick base of his shaft, the fingers of the other opened herself farther as she guided him back into her, and then out, and then yet deeper in.

Her head rocked back. Her chest heaved as pleasure pulsed through her, driven by his feline grace and her hands. He purred, a heavy, panting sound as he allowed her dominance over his most masculine motion.

She guided them toward orgasm. Sensing that sweet release within her, Stuart curled his body so that his mouth was once more upon her breast, teeth around the tip, tongue dancing on the nipple. She groaned; her hands fell away. He took control, driving in that stilted rhythm he remembered and Sariah began to pant, to whimper, to beg. "Please," she beseeched. He obliged, riding that shaft deep within, with a quick slide back out, even as his tongue pulled and his toes slipped back between her folds to tease farther. He even curled his tail so that it tickled her ass as his hips rocked between her legs.

Her hands clenched over his shoulders as her body convulsed in a long and nearly painful orgasm. At first she couldn't breathe for the moans escaping her, but then she panted and cried his name again and again.

The multiple-orgasm pulsed within her, tightening the muscles around his tumescent shaft, and rubbing at him until he came as well, toes curled, tail erect as he growl-groaned in feline fantasy.


Lady M said...

Holy toledo!

Ahem... excuse me - I'll be back after... well.. uh. be right back...


I like that he's still alive. I love true love stuff... It's so... dare I say "romantic"?


Lady M

Bernita said...

Deary me,
To boldly come where no one has come before, init?

Lady M said...

Go... Gone... To Boldy go where no one has gone before.


That was a classic Bernita - totally Classic.

- excuse me, at least now I have two uses for my towel... Visiting Savannah's site and wiping my monitor and keyboard off when Bernita quips.


Bernita said...

Come again?

THE SCRIBE said...

Perfect Quote from the Crow, that movie is just awesome. And as far as you falling short in the mom department, come on. We are our hardest critics. Why don't you ask your children what they think and then believe the response they give. Anyways, have a good one, cheers...

THE SCRIBE said...

Gezzz, you can write. You have an elobarte vocabulary. Your stories are so vivid in my mind. If I were a director I could easily create a scene that would match your writing. I wasn't sure what poignant meant so I looked it up. And after understand it's definition I'm glad I was able to do that through my writing, The Scribe...

Savannah Jordan said...

Bernita and Lady M~

You two are a riot! Thanks for making a possibly grumpy day much better. :) I love the turning of phrases, Bernita, quite quippish of you!

Yeah, I thought that Crow quote was rather fitting for your poem. I love that movie!
And, yes, we are our own worst critics. My kids tell me I am great, yet I see my own shortcomings with vicious clarity. Brings to mind a biblical verse, "...righteousnesses are as filthy rags..." Again, the worst critic concept.

Savannah Jordan said...


So, is it Mike, or Scribe?? :)

Thanks for the compliments on my writing! Warms my heart to know it reaches people and makes them see. It's always been my goal, even when I was just writing poetry. (Yes, I write that too.)

And, I'm glad that I gave you a new word. :) If you ever want to expand your vocabulary, you should check out Bernita's blog! Even I reach for my thesaurus...

Tsavo Leone said...

I can see I've been missing out on so much during my brief hiatus...

From fighting to fornicating, you've left me with a huge grin that goes from were to were (sorry, couldn't resist that one). You most definitely have the visceral and physical stuff tied up and taken care of. And you do it with no little style and aplomb.

"Ah, the suffering. The sweet suffering."

Savannah Jordan said...

Quite quippish this morning! :) And using my favorite tool of alliteration... Thanks for the compliments!

And, DAMN, yet another great quote!